“The Taste of Things,” March 9, 2024, Lexington Venue Theater. Eugenie (Juliette Benoche) and Dodin Bouffont (Benoit Magimel) share a mansion, a garden, sometimes a bed, and always a love for the most amazing food. Set in late 19th century France or perhaps early 20th century (pre-electric lighting), she is his cook, he is France’s “Napolean of Gastronomy.” They are both in love with food and, after 20 years together, while they may love one another, but she is not his wife, even if Dodin would like to change that connection.
This is both a professional and a personal bond. We’ve all seen such diades. They are seemingly unbreakable and inseparable. But are they?
Movies about gourmet (the word doesn’t even begin to describe these foods and the visuals in this film) are, at their best, exquisite. Food is art, science, and serious work: including the growing, the harvesting, the planning, the preparation, and the consumption. That which is extreme to me is normal if balanced properly. Excess is not, however, acceptable, if art is undermined.
This film is intimate, emotional, sensual, sexual, and breathtaking. It is also profoundly personal. It is not, however, complicated in the way that my favorite of these dramas, “Babette’s Feast” (1987), is. That magnificent meditation on society, religion, politics, class, money, and love, as well as the breathtaking preparation and consumption of one spectacular meal, made food a mirror of life. “The Taste of Things” leaves such trivialities as politics, class, power, wealth, and their implications, assumed and, therefore, unconsidered.
Written and directed by Aung Hun Tran, Jonathon Ricquebourg’s cinematography was truly gorgeous. The acting is all wonderful, and Benoche and Bouffont are both, “superbe.” I just overheard my wife tell a friend on the phone that I sat there moaning through the film’s first half hour, partly because of the food, partly because of Benoche.